in lushy marshy fern-strown glen
I wait with basket brim-full
And light so tranquil ‘pon each leaf
Of green and mossy black
And heat perspiring steams return
To heaven the whole a shimmered tower
To Thee that men may follow.
See thee not the blanket spread and oil
Provided wine and bread
Stay awhile! And sup with me for hunger
Is of two types.
Thy lips a morsel brush a drop of wine bestow
Enough for me. Thy body ivory turns away
And thy light fades but slowly.
Return then after battles won and I shall weep into thy wounds.
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